


Tryst

by SilverValkyrie



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Heavy Post-sex Introspection bc. well. you know how it goes, Multiple Orgasms, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Repressed Lesbian Lightning Farron, Snow has a small unfortunate little scene, look she’s gay coded and fang is her type okay don’t fight me on this, sorry it’s fake deep at the end. we both know you’re just here for the sweet sweet fangrai lovin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverValkyrie/pseuds/SilverValkyrie
Summary: “Beautiful woman like you, though,” Fang adds, nipping at your jawline. “Hard to believe no one’s ever taken you to bed before.”“Too busy. Joined the military right out of high school.”“And now that you’re a wanted fugitive, you have more time on your hands? Is that it?”“You know, strangely? Yes.”
Relationships: Lightning/Oerba Yun Fang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Tryst

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting unfinished in my google docs since forever ago, so I quick polished it up bc god this ship is so good. And I learned that I’m not suited for long form fic so I just write porn now. Way more fulfilling for me, somehow. So uh, anyway lol. Without further ado: Fangrai, over a year in the making. Enjoy!

Fang has been flirting with you all afternoon.

Now, you _know_ you’re not the most emotionally in-tune, especially when it comes to other people, but it’s _very_ clear that she’s flirting with you. And while it’s not _unwelcome,_ per say, it’s just that, given the circumstances you and Fang are in, this might not be the best time for a tryst. When she starts playfully teasing you, however, it becomes harder to ignore. You’re a l’Cie, yes, but you’re still you, with the same thoughts and feelings as you had before, and Fang is _right there,_ and you’re alone with her in this Palumpolum alleyway, and who knows if or when you’ll get this chance again.

On the other hand, you’re both fugitives, evading soldiers left and right, never knowing what’s around the corner. Furthermore, you and Fang are due to soon meet up with Snow and Hope. If you delay any longer, there’s a chance that PSICOM could track them down before the two of you can.

Still, it’s been a long time since you’ve been made to feel this way– not since high school, at least– and it’s scary. No, scary is the wrong word; you definitely don’t want her to stop, but you’re in untested waters. You just wish she’d quit teasing you and get on with it, because you and her are running on a tight schedule.

“Fang,” you sigh. “If you’ve got something to say to me, then say it.”

Fang leans back, looking at you, her expression easy and eyes trained on your lips, your jaw. She puts on a sly grin.

“What, you think I haven’t noticed you staring at me all day?”

You freeze, an embarrassed blush rising to your face.

Fang laughs. “You’re not subtle, Light. You’ve been lusting just as shamelessly as me.”

“What– _lusting?!”_ You fumble your words for a moment, trying to put together a cohesive thought. “So _what_ if that’s true, Fang? What then?”

You narrow your eyes at her as she shrugs.

“I dunno, Light,” she replies, her voice a low timbre. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Heat rushes to your face and you practically jump on her, pinning her to the brick wall. You want to take the bait, to kiss her until she’s had enough, but you freeze up and now the both of you are staring at each other, Fang waiting patiently under your gaze.

Your heart rate spikes yet again when she laughs, this deep, beautiful chuckle, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re nervous or infatuated, but if you’re being honest, it’s probably a little of both.

“C’mere, Light,” she says softly, like she hasn’t been mercilessly teasing and flirting with you the whole afternoon. Strong hands find your hips and she pulls you inward. You can feel your heart lurch in your chest as she kisses you and _oh,_ you’ve forgotten how nice this feels. Your arms instinctively wrap around her waist and you’re leaning into her like you’ve got nowhere else to be. For a woman whose outward appearance and demeanor is that of a fierce huntress, Fang is surprisingly gentle as she kisses you again and again.

An ear-splitting explosion startles the two of you out of each other’s grasp.

“Snow!” you gasp, head whipping around towards the source of the sound. 

_You got distracted, and now they're in trouble. Great going, Lightning._

“They found ‘em,” Fang says, already back in fighting form, gripping her lance. 

You both watch as a PSICOM airship hovers close to a pillar of black smoke, evidently the origin of the explosion. Fang glances at you, meeting your eyes, and you nod at her in silent agreement.

Your hand finds your Blazefire in its holster, and the two of you rush in towards Snow and Hope’s location.

________

You don’t acknowledge what happened with Fang in Palumpolum again until you’re aboard the _Lindblum._ Snow and Hope had retreated to the cabin they were given, and you and Fang to yours. You’re sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk, stripped down to just shorts and your sleeveless top, eyes roving over Fang’s muscled back as she disrobes and starts folding her sari neatly. It’s not until she turns around, hands on her hips and a smirk on her face do you realize just how shamelessly you’ve been looking at her.

“You gonna just sit there and stare, or is there something you wanna say?”

You quickly avert your eyes. “Sorry,” you mutter.

“Don’t be,” she laughs. “If you like what you see, then I’m happy to oblige,” she adds with a wink.

You can’t help but feel embarrassed at how fast your face heats up. “Fang–” You’re not even sure exactly how to bring up that you _do_ want her, even though it’s hardly the time for such things. You’ve got a ticking time-bomb on your chest in the form of a l’Cie brand, liable to advance a stage at any moment.

“Makin’ you nervous, pet?” Fang gives you a sympathetic smile. She pads over to the bed and sits next to you, but she doesn’t touch you.

“Look, Fang,” you begin, softly, and she does look at you, her eyes lacking in that usual teasing mirth. “About what happened back there on the streets…”

“Having regrets?”

“No! No. I’m not.” You take in a deep breath, trying to summon your confidence. “I’d like to… I’d like to maybe continue that.”

Fang gives you a smirk. “Hell, me too. But somethin’ tells me you’ve got a caveat.”

“I feel… guilty. Now’s not really the time or place for this kind of thing.” You’re conflicted, saying this; you know you probably shouldn’t sleep with Fang given the circumstances, but you hate to waste an opportunity when you’re presented with one.

Fang shrugs. “That’s fair,” she replies. “We don’t have to do anything at all, either. But the way I see it, we’ll either be Cie’th or crystal no matter what, and we obviously find each other attractive, so we might as well take a little pleasure whenever possible.”

She has a point, you suppose. Fang’s been a l’Cie longer than you have, and you figure that if she can rationalize it that way, you can too. 

You sigh. Fang raises an eyebrow at you.

“It’s up to you, Light,” her voice nearly a whisper. She’s gotten closer to you, but you’ve also been leaning in towards her. Her hands glide over your bare thighs and she closes the distance between your lips and hers.

This time, Fang’s gentleness doesn’t catch you off-guard, and instead you revel in it. You always imagined it’d be hard to let go in a situation like this– that it’d be difficult to relinquish control– but you find that to do so with someone you’re so similar to is a bit easier.

You hike up your leg over hers and end up in her lap, straddling her hips, and you can feel her smile into the kiss. You can’t help but do the same.

She’s ghosting those blunt nails down your lower back, running her tongue over yours, and at some point she stops kissing your lips and instead finds much more pleasure in kissing at your jawline and eventually your neck. Fang’s hands find the zipper of your shirt, and she pauses to look up at you.

“May I?”

You nod, maybe too vigorously, because she laughs as she pulls the zipper down. You shrug off the sleeveless sweater, leaving your top half bare aside from your bra and necklace.

Fang’s eyes fall to your chest, giving you an appreciative (if not hungry) once-over, then she glances at your silver bolt-shaped pendant, and finally she lands her sights on the vicious black l’Cie brand sitting above your left breast.

“Sorry,” she mutters. “Can’t help but look. Makin’ me anxious.”

“My brand is making _you_ anxious?” Your voice matches hers, soft and distant. 

“I know we just met today, Light, but hell, we’re in this fight together.” Her eyes meet yours and she looks downright vulnerable. “I don’t want to see you become a Cie’th. Not you, or Vanille, or Snow or the kid. I won’t have it.”

Her declaration, coupled with that soft expression, strikes a chord within you. You lean down and kiss her gently on the forehead.

“Thank you, Fang,” you whisper.

She does you one better and captures you in another deep kiss, gentler this time, with less of that fire she began with. A longing sigh escapes your nostrils. Fang runs her hands down your bare sides. You know what’s coming next– you can’t help the involuntary twitch that follows, and the giggle that bubbles up in your throat. Fang pulls away and stares at you with a shit-eating grin.

“So, the stoic soldier’s ticklish, huh?”

A murderous expression crosses your features, even as you try to force back a smile. “Fang,” you warn her. “Don’t even _think_ about trying that again.”

Her laughter subsides and she kisses your collarbone apologetically. “Sorry, love.”

You respond only with a firm ‘hmph,’ but your façade of stoicism again crumples quickly as Fang’s teeth latch on to a sensitive pulse point. Your eyes flutter shut and you whimper into her hair. That one’s definitely going to leave a bruise; luckily your usual attire covers your skin all the way up your neck.

Fang’s a lot of things at once, you realize. Fighting alongside her, she’s cocky, confident, and bold. She relishes combat– not careless enough to treat it like a game, but just reckless enough to whole-heartedly enjoy it.

The way she speaks about Vanille, and her home, and the rest of your group makes you see that she’s fiercely protective, and loyal to the end. It’s admirable, the lengths she says she’ll go to protect the things she holds dear.

But being with her here, like this, intimately? Like a multi-faceted die, this is another side you couldn’t see while fighting next to her nor while talking casually with her. Fang intrigues you greatly; defying all preconceived notions of what Pulsians are like– what society _told_ you Pulsians were supposed to be like– and there’s a sort of satisfying feeling of rebellion, a jolt of electricity, when she’s kissing you. It’s intoxicating, everything all at once. The way she looks at you, the way she smells– Fang is incredibly attractive, from her wild mane of hair to her long, muscled legs.

Fang, satisfied with the mangled mess she’s left on your neck and collar, runs a palm down your chest, fingers settling on the front clasp of your bra.

“Never seen a bra like this before,” she comments. “Pretty convenient. Guess Cocoon can _do_ a few things right.”

“Guess so. Now hurry up and take it off before I do it myself.”

“Ooh. Yes, ma’am.”

The clasp comes undone with a tiny _click_ and you take your discarded bra and throw it over your shoulder. Normally you figure you’d be a bit more shy about being exposed like this, but in this moment you find that you just _don’t care._ Fang is tender with you; her kisses reverent and her touches like little sparks. Even when she was sucking bruises on your neck, there was something _more_ than just lust there. 

“Fang,” you manage, your breath hitching as her thumbs roll over your nipples.

“Hm?”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you.” You’re not entirely sure why you say it, but you suppose it’s just curiosity. Fang’s movements appear practiced and entirely without falter.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Light,” she chuckles. “But I’m no beginner, I’ll tell you that much.”

The blush that paints your cheeks must be obvious, because she adds: “Why? This your first time?”

“No,” you lie. The lie stings, and you quickly remedy it with a “sort of.” That’s more of the truth, you suppose. The girl you’d messed around with in high school obviously wasn’t experienced, and neither were you. You and her barely touched each other, in retrospect, only trying to mimic what TV and movies had told you about sex. There were only a few occasions on which you’d met up with the girl outside of classes, and nothing ever really came of it.

Fang laughs. “Don’t be so nervous. No one’s gonna crucify you for never having had sex before. Just let me take the lead and I promise it’ll be good.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease her with a smirk. “I measure based on results.”

“Beautiful woman like you, though,” Fang adds, nipping at your jawline. “Hard to believe no one’s ever taken you to bed before.”

“Too busy. Joined the military right out of high school.”

“And now that you’re a wanted fugitive, you have more time on your hands? Is that it?”

“You know, strangely? Yes.”

Fang smiles at you, but there’s something wanting and heated flaring behind her eyes. You realize now that she’s got something to prove, she’s going all in. 

You’re honestly not sure what to expect, so when she pushes you off her lap and you’re suddenly lying on your back with Fang’s arms pinned on either side of your head, the two of you enraptured in a searing kiss, it’s a bit startling, but you find after a few seconds that you’ve settled in quite nicely. 

Fang’s slotted herself between your legs, your thighs spread wide, and she’s grinding her leg against your core and oh god does that feel good. You arch your back in response, yearning, and you don’t even try to hold back as you moan into the kiss. 

At this point, you’ve soaked through your thin spandex shorts, your slick coating Fang’s thigh where she’s making contact. Her right hand disappears downward, fingertips dancing across your stomach and underneath the waistband of your shorts. You’re aching for her to finally touch you, but evidently she finds the shorts to be too restrictive, and she breaks the kiss to growl at you, _“Off.”_

You quickly comply, shedding your shorts and underwear in one go and flinging the tangled pair to the opposite side of the room.

She hums appreciatively, running her nails down your inner thigh, but again her hand stops agonizingly close to where you need her to be.

“This okay?” She’s asking your permission again. Fang is courteous, you’ll give her that, but you’re so impatient right now that you snap at her.

“Fang, _please–”_

Her eyes light up mischievously. “You gonna beg for it, gorgeous?”

You’re willing to play her game, but only for so long. 

_“Fang,”_ you warn her with a growl. 

“Mmm. I could _definitely_ get used to hearin’ my name on your lips like that.”

_“Fang, I swear if you don’t touch me right fucking now, I will kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”_

She smiles almost haughtily, satisfied with your begging, and finally, _finally_ drags those long, slender fingers up your wet folds. You let loose a shuddering breath that gives way to a guttural moan when she coats your clit in fluid and rolls it between her fingers, _agonizingly_ slow.

Involuntarily, your hips buck and you hiss, _“Fuck!”_

“Sensitive, huh?”

Your eyes are screwed shut but you just _know_ she’s looking at you with a filthy smirk. You wish you could wipe that stupid smug grin off Fang’s beautiful face. She’s infuriating and cocky and salacious and perfect and the way she’s touching you is absolutely _amazing._

The heel of her palm grinds down on your clit and a shockwave of pleasure shoots through you.

_“Fang–!”_

She just chuckles. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are?”

Your reply comes with an embarrassed huff, and you’re sure you’re blushing all the way down to your chest. An answer to her obviously-rhetorical query falters and dies on your lips with a whimper as she presses her palm into your clit again, gently this time.

She leans down and your lips meet, and she’s greedily swallowing your whines while increasing her rhythm.

 _“Fuck… me,”_ You pant the words out when she pulls away, your hips rutting against her hand.

Fang gently rubs her nose against yours and then plants a quick kiss on the tip. “Okay,” she whispers.

Your heart skips a beat and you suddenly realize suddenly that _oh no,_ you might not be able to keep your feelings out of this. You never really considered yourself a romantic, and, you _especially_ never believed it was possible for these kinds of feelings to develop so quickly– yet here you are, in bed with a woman who makes your heart do backflips a mere twelve hours after first meeting her.

“You shouldn’t think so much,” Fang murmurs against your lips before kissing you again. She tastes a bit like some sort of spice; cinnamon, or cloves, maybe.

“Sorry,” you apologize for what might be the umpteenth time that day. 

“Don’t be. I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

Fang sits up with a smirk and edges her way down your body. Your mind only registers what she’s going to do when she hefts your legs over her shoulders and settles in with her mouth dangerously close to your core. 

You don’t even realize your brain has short-circuited until Fang’s voice reaches your ears through the haze. 

“Light? You okay?”

“Yes,” you answer, nodding vigorously. 

“If I do anything that hurts you or makes you uncomfortable–”

You cut her off, impatient beyond belief. “Fang, _trust me,_ I will let you know. Just _keep going.”_

Fang smiles and sinks her mouth lower, kissing the inside of your thigh as she goes. A shiver of anticipation runs through your whole being, and another full-body shudder hits you when her tongue paints a soft, languid stroke upwards through your cunt. She repeats this, each swipe of her tongue getting you more wet, more desperate.

Finally, _finally,_ Fang gives you what you want when her lips close around your clit and she begins to suck.

You arch your back involuntarily, and the cry you let out is an embarrassing one, but Fang responds to it by first sinking one finger inside you, then two, and you hope to god that the walls in this airship are thicker than they look.

She’s pistoning her fingers in and out in such a way that you’d never thought to try before; you’d never been able to garner pleasure from penetration on your own but whatever Fang’s doing feels _incredible._

You can’t keep your legs from trembling, and you’re half-afraid you’ll crush her head with your thighs, but Fang seems to have read your mind because she takes her idle hand and pushes your left leg down against the bed, holding it down with her elbow and keeping her forearm across your stomach. You’re about to mutter another apology at her but then her tongue flicks your clit and swirls it around, and another cry tears from your lips.

_“Nnh– Fang!”_

Fang opens her eyes and her smoldering gaze meets yours for only a half a second before you hurriedly turn your head away and cover your face. It’s embarrassing enough to have someone listen to your sounds of pleasure, let alone watch you get off– even if that person _is_ the one getting you off.

“Don’t– _hunh–_ don’t look at me!”

You peek back at Fang and the slight creasing around her eyes tells you she’s smiling. Suddenly her mouth abandons its post, but she keeps working you slowly with her fingers. She props her head up with her free hand and gives you a lazy grin.

“So you’re a ‘sex with the lights off’ kinda girl, huh, Light?”

You know she’s just trying to get under your skin, but you absolutely refuse to take the bait. You snap at her from behind the arm you have draped over your face, but it comes out much more akin to a whine. “Fang, _please_ don’t stop.”

Fang chuckles, her eyes dark. “Oh, sunshine, keep begging like that and I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

And just like that, her lips and her tongue are on your clit again and those long fingers of hers are thrusting faster, deeper, hitting places you’d never even thought would feel good to touch. 

She’s definitely way too full of herself like this, but Fang is insanely hot and what she’s doing to you feels too good to make her stop. You’d never admit it out loud, but her cockiness– her _authority–_ is kind of a turn-on. You _want_ her to give you everything. You _want_ to be taken over. You’ve been the one taking care of another person for most of your life and you’re _tired._ Fang can have you– at least for right now. Fang can take care of you.

Every nerve in your body is singing and you can’t help the moan that escapes your throat with each thrust. One of your hands is wrung tightly in the bedsheets beside you and the other is tangled in Fang’s hair, and when you tug with force, Fang groans into your clit. The vibrations from that alone send you soaring and you’re so close, _so close, so close–_

Fang introduces a third finger and that’s all it takes. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, your senses are overloaded and you come hard with a shaky, keening wail. A wonderful wave of bliss washes through you, and for a moment, as the knot of tension in your belly swiftly unravels, you’re on cloud nine. Fang keeps her rhythm through all of it, milking your orgasm for everything its got, even as you clench down around her fingers. 

You don’t even get the chance to catch your breath as it begins to fade, because Fang’s still working your over-sensitive clit and you’re spiraling, building fast towards another peak, the sensation is something like pain; _almost,_ but not quite, and it feels so _good–_

_“Fang,”_ you whimper, her name a sacred chant. “Fang, Fang, _Fang–”_

A heavy knock at the door immediately pulls you out of your sex-induced reverie, and Fang springs up so quick she whacks her head against the underside of the top bunk with a metal _clang_ and a loud _“augh!”_

A voice comes from beyond the door, muffled, but unmistakable: Snow.

“Hey sis, uh– you okay in there?”

Orgasmic bliss turns to blind rage as you make for the door. Fang lunges, abandoning her head injury as she grabs you around the waist.

You struggle in Fang’s arms for a moment, growling, “That’s _it._ I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna kill him!”

“Light, you’re naked,” Fang says in your ear, and she releases you.

You don’t even acknowledge her, you just grab your jacket and skirt (you don’t even know where your shorts and underwear went, let alone your sweater), and throw them on haphazardly. There’s _definitely_ something dripping down your leg but you’re so furious that you _just don’t care._

“Light?” Hearing Snow’s voice again stokes the irritation within you. You throw the sliding metal door open with enough force that Snow jumps when he sees you.

 _“What,”_ you hiss.

“Uhh.” He’s clearly taken aback by the venom in your voice, and he avoids your glare. “Someone, uh… someone heard yelling from down the hall and I figured I should come check on you guys to make sure you weren’t, like… tearing each other’s heads off, or something.”

He trails off as eyes dart over your shoulder for just a second, presumably to look at Fang, but a blush comes over his face and he steps back away from the door frame.

You spare Fang a sharp glance, and she winks at you. She’s not even naked, so you’re not sure what he’s so flustered about.

 _“Snow,”_ you snarl, turning back to face him. “You _dense motherfucker._ If Serah didn’t care so much about you, I’d kick your goddamn teeth in. Get the hell out of here!”

“I mean, I– I just didn’t think–”

“Yeah, you didn’t _think,”_ you bite back. “Try it sometime. Might help.”

Snow fumbles his words as he backs away, hands raised defensively. “Sorry, Light, I just, uh, didn’t realize… um– have a good night!”

He bolts for his life, in case you might give chase, but you’re not even considering it. You take a deep breath, shut the door, shrug your jacket and skirt off once again, and trudge back over to the bed.

Fang’s eyes follow you across the room, watching as you hit the bed face down with a _fwomp,_ your face buried in the pillow.

“...Light? You okay?”

You grunt, hoping Fang takes that for an answer.

Fang shifts on the bed, and she plops down next to you. 

“Embarrassed?”

Another noncommittal grunt.

“Hm.”

You’re finding it hard to breathe like this, so you ease your face from the relative safety of the pillow and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Could be worse, I suppose.”

“Worse than my future brother-in-law knowing that I… that I, uh–”

“–that you fuck women?” Fang offers.

 _“Ugh. Yes.”_ Your head hits the pillow again, but not face-down this time.

“So? What’s wrong with that? We’re all adults here.”

“I don’t want him knowing _anything_ about me– _especially_ not the kind of people I prefer to sleep with! Not even my sister knows that.”

“Not even your sister knows you’re gay?”

“I’m not– don’t say it like that,” you grumble. “I’m not _gay,_ I just… prefer women. And not men.”

“That’s…” she stops herself and laughs, and you find yourself only half-annoyed at that beautiful, deep sound. “Hey, whatever you say, sunshine.”

You heave a great sigh, and then your eyes meet Fang’s. There’s a glint of playfulness in there, and something else, too. Your heart skips a beat– Fang’s quite good at making your heart do odd things– and you pull yourself closer to her.

“Ugh. Just kiss me again,” you mumble into the crook of her neck. 

“It’d be my pleasure,” she whispers back. A shiver races up your spine.

She tilts your head up and kisses you; soft, slow– it’s almost _romantic._ You revel in it, this closeness you’d always ached for but never allowed yourself to indulge in– with Fang, no less; she’s one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

The kiss deepens and you think to yourself– as Fang pushes you onto your back and your hands wander up her shoulder blades, feeling every muscle there tense and release– you think, _how am I simultaneously so lucky and unlucky at the same time? All it took to get laid was to become a l’Cie. Funny thing, life._

Fang breaks away from the kiss. “You’re thinking again, Light.”

You laugh. “I’m thinking about _you, Fang.”_

“You misunderstand me, sunshine,” she says, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. “Sex is usually better when you’re living in the moment.”

“We’re not even… _you know,_ doing anything right now.” You gesture at your naked body, hoping to get the point across.

Fang laughs heartily. “You’re an odd one, Light. Not even ten minutes ago you were unabashedly screaming my name, begging me to fuck you, and now you can’t even say ‘sex’ out loud.”

“Quiet, you.” You grab the pillow next to you and hit her upside the head with it.

“You’ll have to shut me up yourself, pet.”

Figures. You’re quickly learning that Fang never misses a chance to tease.

You lean forward and clasp your hands behind Fang’s neck, pulling her back down to the bed with you. Your lips meet somewhere along the way, and for a few minutes, the only sounds in the room are your and Fang’s breathing and the soft smacking of lips.

Kissing Fang is… well, it’s nice. It’s _really_ nice, in fact. Sure, you’d kissed that one girl back in high school a few times but Fang is so much better at it that those first couple kisses back when you were a teenager might as well have not happened at all. Fang knows _exactly_ what she’s doing; _exactly_ how to kiss you, how to touch you and please you. You never believed much in luck before, honestly, but _damn_ if you’re not lucky right here, right now.

Eventually both of you pull apart, needing to finally take a proper breath or two.

Fang falls back over to her side, pulling you in with her. You both nestle in, the two of you quiet for a minute or so, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.

“Fang,” you murmur.

“Hm?”

You shift uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to best word your question. “When… when did you first realize you were… that you liked women?”

“Huh,” Fang muses. “Guess I’ve always known.”

“Always?” You pull away from her, only a little bit, just to look at her.

“Yeah, pretty much.” She meets your gaze with those mischievous green eyes. “When I was younger, I asked one of the best hunters in the village if she would marry me. I even gave her a little bouquet of flowers. She turned me down, of course– I was five– but from then on, everyone knew. Nobody minded, but they all knew.” 

“Were you the only one?”

“Ha! Not even close. I just figured it out early. There were plenty of lesbians in Oerba. Bi girls, too. Think I might’ve even turned a few straight girls, to be honest.” 

It’s so easy for her to say it, just like that. She’s so comfortable talking about all of this, you’re almost jealous, wishing you could be as easy-going as her.

Fang’s eyes soften, seeing you looking at her so silent and pensive, and she twines her fingers with yours.

“Guess it’s not so bad that Snow knows,” you finally say.

“How d’you mean?”

“Maybe he’ll tell his idiot friends to stop hitting on me. God, I hate _all_ of them.” The three NORA guys pop into your mind instantly, but then you remember the girl in her midriff top and her short shorts. “Well, except the girl. Lebreau, I think,” you add quickly.

“Is she hot?”

You shrug. “She’s alright. Got the most sense out of the bunch, at least.”

“Huh. Must be hard carrying the only brain cell in the group.”

“Tell me about it.”

Fang laughs, and then there’s a brief silence.

“Fang.”

“Yeah?”

You sit up, lean over, and prop yourself up on top of Fang with one hand on either side of her head. She quirks an eyebrow curiously, and you have her full attention.

“I… I’d like to, uh–”

Fang’s hands briefly brush over your sides, and for a moment you think she’s going to tickle you again, but she instead laces her fingers together behind the small of your back and starts rubbing slow circles with her thumbs. _Oh,_ that’s _very_ nice.

Fang purrs, “You’d like to _what,_ Lightning?”

All words falter and you practically melt into Fang with a pleased hum, sprawling out on top of her with your face nestled into her neck. It _should_ be embarrassing, and you figure normally you’d never let your guard down like this, but given everything that’s happened tonight, you don’t really care _what_ Fang does to you at this point.

Fang chuckles and you feel the sound reverberate through her chest. “What are you, a cat?”

“Mm,” you reply, ever so eloquently.

She laughs again. “Finish your sentence, angel. Tell me what you want.”

A flicker of renewed energy pulses through you, and you look up to meet her eyes with a heated spark of newfound confidence.

“Tell me what _you_ want, Fang.”

Fang looks a bit surprised, but her expression slides into a wry smile.

“How about I _show_ you what I want?”

“By all means,” you say, and no sooner than those words finish leaving your lips does Fang have you flipped on your back once again. She wastes no time stripping off her bra and underwear, tossing them haphazardly off the bed, and then there she is, straddling your chest, just as naked as you are, save for her necklaces. You can’t help but rove your eyes over her body.

“Well, Light,” Fang sighs, tilting your head up with a finger under your chin. “As much as I love having my ego stroked, I’d rather the stroking be done elsewhere tonight, if you know what I mean.”

She grins and you roll your eyes. You hook your arms underneath her strong thighs and gently pull. “Just get the hell up here, Fang.”

“With pleasure.” 

Fang slides herself forward until she’s straddling your face, mere inches from your mouth. It’s a bit awkward in the cramped space of the bottom bunk, but Fang appears to have made it work just fine.

You look up and meet her eyes, dark pupils blown wide. She looks at you rather fondly, however, despite the clear anticipation in her body language. “If you need to come up for air, or if I’m hurting you, just tap my thigh, alright, love?”

Your heart skips a beat again– _love, she called you–_ and you reply softly, “Yeah.” 

Fang sighs happily. “You’re cute. Ready?”

A heavy blush paints your face, but you still nod.

Fang shifts her weight just slightly. You’re about to dive into those dark curls, but a single thought stops you.

You wet your lips nervously. “Fang, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“You can always back out if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head. “I’m not backing out. Just remember this is the first time I’ve ever done this.”

“I won’t judge you, Light, I promise. In fact, I think you’ll find I’m quite easy to please.”

And with that, you meet Fang’s gaze with a cool determination, take a steadying breath, and pull her down by her thighs so your mouth finally makes contact with her cunt, molten hot and dripping with arousal.

She sighs as you sink your tongue into those plush folds, slowly dragging it all the way up to her clit.

Hesitantly, you wrap your lips around it, giving the little bud a gentle suck. Fang’s thighs clench around your head in response.

 _“God,_ more of that, please,” she gasps, and you decide you need to hear those sounds come from her mouth again, so you swiftly comply.

You give her a little more force, suckling harder on her clit and you feel her nearly buckle on top of you, and she rewards you with a hot, needy groan. Her hips roll involuntarily, at first only once, then twice, and then they soon find a steady rhythm grinding against your mouth.

Fang is strong– incredibly so, in fact– you know this just from fighting by her side, but now you’re learning this firsthand, up close. You worry that her hold is so strong that you might have to tap her leg and get her attention, because it’s starting to get a little hard to breathe, but then she honest-to-god _whimpers_ at you.

 _“Please,_ Lightning. _Please.”_

You look up and her eyes meet yours, hers are half-lidded in a silent plea, and she looks almost demure, vulnerable.

 _Now_ you understand why she wanted you to beg so badly before. A new fire alights in your belly, seeing such a beautiful, strong woman come apart at the mercy of _your_ touch, _your_ lips. It’s intoxicating– all of her is, really. Her taste, her scent; a heady, pleasant musk that you could see yourself becoming addicted to. 

Fang’s breathing picks up as you work her clit harder, lashing out with your tongue. She bends over and grips the steel headboard with a grunt, biting her lip, her dark hair falling around her face.

She tenses her thighs around your head and she trembles. “Mm– Light, y–you’re– oh _fuck–”_

Fang isn’t loud, you realize; she just babbles. Every sound that escapes her throat is raw and primal and real, like she’s unafraid of showing you every side of her. 

You grip her thighs harder, pulling her down closer to your mouth, digging your nails in, and she gives you an approving whimper. 

_“Hurt me,”_ Fang blurts out, and you look up at her with a questioning gaze, slowing your pace. She quickly amends herself, chuckling breathlessly, “I– s-sorry, shouldn’t have said that. Probably a bit too much for your first time.”

You don’t exactly know where her boundaries lie, so the most you feel comfortable giving her is raking your nails down her thighs, and you hope that it’s enough. 

You’re still thinking, however– the mental image of Fang in a submissive position, begging you to scratch her, to bite her, to leave marks all down her body is… _exciting,_ to say the least. It spurs you on harder, and Fang responds enthusiastically– physically _and_ verbally. 

_“God– I– fuck, oh fuck–”_

Her fingers tangle in your hair, grasping desperately for purchase. A faint ache arises in your jaw, but you push the pain back, focusing completely and solely on Fang. 

_“C–close,”_ she manages through grit teeth.

You switch from short, little flicks of your tongue to broad, flat ones, letting Fang set the pace.

A strangled groan tears from her lips, and she stiffens, grinding desperately against your tongue.

_“Mnh– f-fuck, god, that’s fucking good– fuck, oh fuck–”_

You keep your firm grip on her as she slows her grind, and finally she goes limp and falls backward, breathing heavily, beads of sweat dripping down her chest, necklaces clacking together haphazardly.

You sit up, licking your lips experimentally, but Fang’s got one eye open, watching you like a hawk, and she too licks her lips, hungrily.

Her hand clamps down on your wrist and she tugs you down on top of her. She’s out of breath, but she still kisses you softly, languidly.

You pull away after a moment, and look her in the eyes.

“Fuckin’ hell, Light,” she breathes. “That– I needed that.”

A smirk crosses your lips. “My pleasure.”

Fang fires back with a cheeky grin, “Yeah? You like eatin’ pussy?”

“Don’t be vulgar.”

She ducks to avoid your half-hearted pillow strike, chuckling, “Aw, Light, we’ll make a seasoned lesbian out of you yet, you’ll see.”

You eye her skeptically. “Uh-huh, whatever that means.”

Fang smiles as her breathing evens out, and she stretches over toward you, limber like a jungle cat. 

“Once all of this is over, I’ll teach you everything you need to know, alright? Now c’mere, sourpuss. You look absolutely knackered.”

You lean in towards Fang, and she gathers you up in her arms and lays the both of you down. You’re not sure what ‘knackered’ is, but you’re too tired to think any harder about it. Your eyelids are heavy, and Fang snuggles in close, pulling the blanket up over the two of you.

‘Once all of this is over,’ Fang had said. It’s hard for you to imagine an ending of your journey that doesn’t leave you either crystal or Cie’th. Positive realism seems to suit her better than irrepressible optimism, _a la_ Snow, but… 

“Sleep, sunshine. Tomorrow’s a new day, yeah? Let’s focus on what’s directly ahead of us instead of mulling over an uncertain fate.”

…you trust her. You hardly know her, yet at the same time, you also know _all_ of her. She’s an enigmatic woman who came roaring into your life on the back of a motorcycle, guns blazing. Everything she says, she says with unbridled determination. Fang is wholly and undeniably foreign, so unapologetically _her_ that you _want_ to believe that there’s an inkling of hope for your future. So long as you’re still breathing– so long as you’re still l’Cie– there’s at least a fighting chance, no matter how small.

Damn her– and damn _Snow._ Yesterday morning you were set on your suicide mission to Eden. Tonight, now, you have an ally, a friend, and maybe someday, something more. You have Fang, and you have Hope and Snow and Raines and they _care._ You can do this. You can see this to the end standing side by side with them.

Turning your focus outward, you note Fang’s slow, even breathing; she’s fast asleep already, arms and legs tangled with yours, nestled neatly into your touch.

As your eyelids become much too heavy, as you succumb to a much-needed sleep, you can’t help but just be present, wrapped up against Fang. 

Tomorrow, you’ll make a move against the Sanctum, and seek out Sazh and Vanille. 

But tonight, dismal fates forgotten, you’re simply Lightning– and maybe– _just maybe–_ you’re even Claire, the woman you suppressed underneath your frigid soldier persona. Tonight, for Fang’s eyes only, you’re truly, unequivocally, unapologetically _you._

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on Twitter @silvervalkyrior 👍


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